


The JD Project

by JAD_Kiwi



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: AU, Actually quite a bit, Basically, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Even though I know that's not possible, F/F, F/M, Gay, Half of this was my friend's idea though, Heathers is in modern times now, I don't enjoy writing smut, I haven't written fan fiction in a long time I hope this is not too horrible, I mean in BMC I don't remember a school name so-, It's like a normal story with ups and downs, M/M, Multi, Multiple Crossovers, My First AO3 Post, Romance, Slow Burn, So I guess AU when everyone lives in the same time period, Westerburg High is the school everyone goes to now, Yeah but there's a lot of angst too, but all fluff, i hope i finish this, k? Just starts angsty, please motivate me to finish this, random idea, slushies bring people together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-06 12:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11601045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAD_Kiwi/pseuds/JAD_Kiwi
Summary: JD's life has gone downhill. Veronica has left him in a tough spot and he is borderline suicidal. That's when the crush of his life shows up, and there's a lot more in store than he initially thinks.Michael Mell was successfully hooking up Jeremy and Christine when he decided it was time for him to find some sort of romantic life as well!(AU where Heathers is in modern times and at the same school as Be More Chill. Pairings will shift throughout the story, so don't count on anything staying as how it currently is! Also, I'm hoping for frequent updates.)Be More Chill x Heathers x Dear Evan Hanson (all the highschool musicals!)(Starts in between the events in Kindergarten Boyfriend and Yo Girl in Heathers [before JD comes to Veronica's house] and after the entirety of events in Be More Chill [no more Squips] and Dear Evan Hanson [the secret's out].)





	1. Dilemma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for checking out my first fic! Let's start this off nice and depressing, shall we?
> 
> JD brooding over slushies.

I’m not exactly sure when I fell for him.

Maybe it was 5th grade, when I first heard his laugh. It was during an assembly when he was telling a joke with his friend...Jeremy, right? Something about videogames. That same day I went home and researched what that game was to get all the jokes he made about it.

Maybe it was in middle school, when he went around with those killer headphones that he spent so much money on. I just thought he looked really adorable at that moment.

All I knew was that for Michael Mell, now a junior in Westerburg High, one year behind me, I was so smitten. He was considered a loser. He was the only winner in my eyes.

Unfortunately, I felt I was way out of his league. Why would a soft gentle kitten like Michael ever want to hang around a fierce tiger like me? The one who prowled in the darkness. The one who people liked to call a creep. I mean, I can’t really blame them. I do wear a long trenchcoat and have messy dark hair. But that doesn’t make socializing any easier, you know.

Usually, I observed from a distance. Watching out of the corner of my eye, I’d see how he’d react and joke with his friend Jeremy. Jeremy. That was my other disadvantage. How were you supposed to rival someone that had been his friend for years? Regardless, I tried my upmost best to seem passive when I knew he was around. Unless it was absolutely necessary, I would try to not pick fights. Note the “absolutely necessary”.

Ram, Kurt, Jake, and Rich really got on my nerves sometimes though. Although I could’ve swore one time he saw me pummel Rich and was silently cheering for me. Maybe.

I don’t know why this mess with Veronica started. Oh wait, I do. Because she barged into my room after we had barely a handful of conversations and decided to release her “I don’t want to die a virgin” complex on me. And...it took off. And we had our fun. And then she threw me away.

To this day, I don’t understand why she was so...so...utterly shocked and horrified at the homicide we pulled off. Yes, not just me. We. I was doing it to protect her. And she never told me “Hey don’t kill them, I want them alive,” or anything. Heck, she herself announced at the start of school she had to resist the temptation to set “this dump ablaze”. Yeah. Tell me she didn’t have in mind what I did.

I did everything for her, and she threw it away. She left broken pieces of me behind her and now has nothing to say. Isn’t that unforgivable, huh? Not to mention she’s at the peak of popularity now. Such a socially secure spot. You know, there’s a part of me that wants to barge into her house and just demand her to mend these strewn parts of my existence she tore apart with her meek fingers. But I’m not ready. Not yet.

Enough on that waste of energy though. Back to the angel that is Michael Mell.

Because I can hear him sobbing. Not right now, but in my mind.

I can her his strangled cries for his friend, Jeremy. I can hear them as I lay against a cold unfriendly brick wall myself, slurping on a classic slushie. I seriously think you can get high off of his stuff. 

Recalling the scene vividly in my mind, like a splash of color was washed into my mental vision, I pick at a cuticle as I try to remember. Michael in the bathroom at that party.

It was at Ram’s house, yeah. That’s when I found out Ram and Jake were brothers. Jerk genes run in the family. Or something. They’re stepbrothers. Whatever.

One crazy night, that was. People swinging off chandeliers, drugs and alcohol being consumed like they were rations at a battlefield, and tons of mutilation of property. I’m not such a party guy myself, though. Parties are really loud and there’s too many people being all “buddy buddy” with each other. So I typically take to the quieter areas.

In this case, it meant the bathroom. However, as I smoked my pack I heard some sort of argument occur behind the wooden door of the lavatory. My eyes widened when I realized...that was Michael’s voice.

“I just thought...you’ve kind of been ignoring me for a while….”

“Well, maybe I have. So can I go back now?”

“B-but...”

Was that...Jeremy’s voice? But the never argue? I now listened with more effort.

“You know what, I am going to go back. To my real friends now. Loser.”

Ouch, that last word must have stung. I don’t really get it though, didn’t Jeremy also consider himself a loser? I shrugged and quickly pulled off a casual lean against the wall when I felt the door open.

On the other side I saw Jeremy...but he looked somewhat different. Colder. More rugged. Terrified, at that time I had seen what I might have looked like before I learned to keep my anger under control. Complete and utter confusion cloaked in a layer of arrogance. The only thing I could think was: Jeremy Heere is now dead.

And from the back of my mind I felt a guilt-tinged tingle of hope. “You might have a chance with Michael!”

I let the door close and waited. I’m not sure what I was waiting for. I should have just let myself in and support the grieving door. I definitely should have opened the door when he started sobbing at an audible level. But I didn’t. WHY?!

But you know what I did do? Get this, I pulled a completely idiotic move. I knocked on the door.

Not once, not twice, but four times. 

I still can’t forgive myself that I never saw Michael’s tear-stained face. I think I would have shattered if I did, however.

Hey, you know what I did do when I heard him approaching? 

Stopped knocking and avoided making a sound like it would have revealed me to security during a robbery.

Wow, I had really messed up. My one, freakin’ opportunity!

Needless to say, I rushed out there, completely horrified at how weak I actually was. I’d show them I wasn’t! I would later find Veronica in my room, and later find her to be my partner, and later find myself proving I wasn’t weak. By killing Heather Chandler for her.

I really need to find better ways to vent out my frustration. I let my sigh escape through my straw through backwash into my slushie cup, flattening my body against the wall. Maybe if I hadn’t been so chicken at the party, I wouldn’t be in this situation right now. And I wouldn’t be abandoned by Veronica or ignored by Michael. 

I threw down my slushie cup. Not so gently, may I add. 

The contents cracked through the cheap shell of plastic as I watched the artificial slush fill in the cracks of the pavement. Eventually, it started to fade away, only as a stark black stain on the cobbles of the ground, speckled at strange angles.

I could go buy a new slushie. But that wouldn’t fix the old slushie. But do I care for the old slushie?

What if the same thing happened to the new slushie, from a similar or different cause?

I either needed a slushie I could trust myself to treasure or I was better off without a new slushie at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that was a bad use of symbolism.
> 
> Slushies.
> 
> Expect to see more of those.
> 
> Thanks for actually reading to the end ha. Feedback is appreciated!


	2. Level 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and Michael playing video games and chillin' (pun not intended).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like writing in Michael's perspective. It's fun.
> 
> Hope you are enjoying thus far!

Beep

Boop

Bop

“Level 19!”

“Omigod, we made it, Michael!”

I slapped a confident high-five with my bud, Jeremy, a grin clearly evident on both of our faces. Finally!

As I let the happiness wash over me in Jeremy’s quaint little room, I glanced over before the level started to take in his expression. Shining brightly, I could not only see his upturned mouth smiling, but his eyes too. Internally, I puffed a sigh of relief. As long as it was not that painfully plastic smile he had adorned only barely a week ago talking to the…”popular kids”.

Man, am I glad that show is over. Of course, I’m talkin’ about the whole Squip thing. Thank God. I was worried I might lose the only other human being who understands me.

The level started off pretty easy (for us at least, gaming geeks “X-treme”), so I used this chance to forge some conversation. “How are things between you and Christine?” I wondered aloud.

“Pretty sweet, actually,” Jeremy replied almost immediately, a momentary pause dedicated to flicking his thumb to shoot some aliens. “Dude, I never would have thought that I would end up even friends with her. But almost dating??? Like???”

“What do you mean, ‘almost dating’?” I teased with an edge of actual confusion in my voice, shooting down a UFO.

“Well, like, we’re not technically dating YET,” he started to explain, but then took his focus off the small talk to battle an enemy before losing a life. “Crap,” he cursed, then continued, “But everyone is um...shipping...us and I think she’s just waiting for me to ask her out.”

“Haha, and you still haven’t?” I giggled. He was about the most timid person in relationships ever. He’s probably never been in the position to initiate. Scratch that. I know he’s never been in the position to initiate.

“Hey, I’m nervous, alright?” Jeremy groaned, either from his dating frustration, or from the fact that he had lost another life.

“I get it, bro. You want me to be there for ya?” I gave a dorky thumbs-up, losing a life myself from the hindrance of one-handed playing.

“This sounds so stupid, but actually yeah.” He painfully smiled, as if he couldn’t believe he had actually accepted that idea.

“You don’t need to be ashamed. Not like I’ll be much help anyway.”

“You presence will guide me.”

“What am I, the Force?”

We weakly cracked up at my stupid joke before realizing that we had to restart the level.

“Tensions seem to be high somewhere else, though, huh?” I spat out without thinking as I pressed “Start”.

“Whaddya mean?” Jeremy replied, gritting his teeth trying his best to not get distracted this time around.

“Those seniors are crazy, man. Those Heathers! All that murder!”

“I mean, it’s kinda messed up.”

“‘Kinda’? It’s freakin’ insane! Like something you’d see out of a late 80s movie!”

“I mean, since we’re losers, it doesn’t look like we’ll be targeted. The only ones dying are the popular kids,” Jeremy reasoned.

“Is that why you decided to quit being popular?”

“No, dude! There are...so many other reasons…” 

Whoops, I had brought up a bad subject. Let’s just throw that under the rug for now, at least until the recent wound stops smarting. “But seriously...at least things have kinda calmed down. Now the only thing that sucks is that Mcnarama and Veronica. Dude, sluts run this school.”

“Hey, as long as we stay off the radar all should be good,” Jeremy shrugged, fending us off from an army of enemies.

“And we’re the best at being ignored!” I chuckles dryly, as this somehow had brought up something painful. I tried to dodge the subject from infecting my mind, but it was too late. My face grew solemn, but Jeremy didn’t notice as his attention was now on the game. I instinctively let my hands do the playing with the controller as I let my thoughts drift off.

That day...that I actually did feel terrible I was ignored. Argh, the Halloween party at Jake and Ram’s house! I promised myself I would try to forget it, and the venom laced in Jeremy’s chill..way too chill...voice. It’s not really easy, though.

What’s worse is that I had heard a knock that day, a knock that half of me was terrified of and the other half yearned for, craved even. Craved for a chance that I would not be alone or forgotten. Maybe, my mind had started playing tricks that day because as soon as I felt that greedy part take over me for attention, the knocking had stopped abruptly. 

I still really hope that the knock I had heard that day was more than just a want that had decided to pound itself audibly into my skull. Maybe, just maybe, someone was trying to help. Maybe. Because I’m not going to lie, my crying got pretty loud after a while. And there was always an upstairs bathroom I’m pretty sure people started using after they realized mine was locked and there was a whimpering kitten of a boy sobbing inside.

I puffed out a hollow sigh, dropping my head slightly, a dim glow of the television dancing around my glasses’ lense. 

“Michael, you alright?”

I looked back up at the source of concern. In half a second I realized the game had been paused. There was Jeremy, now my friend again, rebonded to me, completely worried about my state. “Yeah, dude...just thinking,” I smiled soberly. “Just..thanks for coming back.”

“Of course,” Jeremy warmly gazed back, as if he knew what I was thinking. “We learn from history, right? We won’t repeat it.”

“Thanks so much dude,” I perked my expression back up. “Now, time to beat this level!”

He unpaused the game and we lept back in. My eternal best friend, who I knew would always be there.

But one thing bugged me at the back of my mind. I had/have a best friend forever. That didn’t change from this whole Squip affair.

But he had gotten a lover out of it. Me…I was still a level behind. He was almost to the winner’s podium. I wanted to catch up to him and gain “experience”...one thing I was lacking.

Man, I need to get myself a girlfriend now too!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha matchmaker Michael.
> 
> Also, did you get the slight Heathers reference?
> 
> I wonder who that girlfriend will be, huh?
> 
> Thanks for reading to the end, hah. 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated.


	3. Such a Great Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm pretty jumpy with perspectives. Sorry. Not really.
> 
> I'm sorry at all the failed humor in this story. I'm the worst at writing jokes.
> 
> By the way, I try not to curse in writing too much, unless it's a defining trait of a character (like JD or Connor, but even then I try to cut down).

I am forever grateful for Michael.

Like, seriously. He stuck with me even after I called him a LOSER. And left him crying in the bathroom for the rest of the night. That was a jerk move.

And now, he’s decided that he’d support my relationship with Christine! I mean, what better bro could I ask for?

Walking to her locker with him as the bell for the end of last period rang, I tried to contain my nerves. Obviously I was doing a bad job at doing so.

“Are you alright?” he mumbled.

“Y-yeah!” I squeaked. “J-just….what if she says no and she didn’t actually want to date me all along and this is too forward and even if not what if she has plans and-”

“Dude,” he put an arm on my shoulder. “Be. More. Chill.”

“Not funny,” I groaned.

“But seriously, you checked with her a week before if she had any plans, and I’m certain she likes you enough. After all, you’ve been hanging out for a month now!”

I sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

“I know I’m not reliable 24/7, but now I know for sure I’m right,” he grinned.

“Thanks, man,” I weakly smiled back. Before I even knew it our small talk had completely filled in the space of time that we needed to reach our desired location.

And I was met with a neat, crisp cut of black hair. “H-hey, Christine…..”

“Oh Michael, Jeremy!” A blindingly white smile met my eyes. Michael waved casually, running his hand through his hair absentmindedly. I probably was sweating and looked so uncool. Did I remember to fix my hair? What if that annoying piece of hair that always stuck up wasn’t down? Oh God, did I have any new zits?

“Jeremy?” Beautiful brown eyes now furrowed in confusion. “Did you want to say something?”

“O-oh! Y-yeah!” Frick, my stuttering was back in full.

“What is it?” she smiled subtly. I really think it’s pretty when people’s default expression is smiling. Oh wait I forgot to speak on time again.

“T-there’s this new cafe that opened up near my house…” I peeped. High voice=not sexy.

“Oh, really?”

“I-um..do-” I was crashing and burning. There’s no way I could do this. Then out of nowhere, I felt an arm grip my shoulder, brushing my back gently on its way.

Michael. Thank the gods that loveable dork exists. I suddenly felt a wave of courage hit me, causing me to open my eyes up wider and straighten my back. “There’s like, coffee and frozen yogurt and other good stuff. So…I was wondering if you weren’t busy...like, after school today?”

“Oh! I’m not busy, so of course! I’d love to hang with you!” she beamed kindly.

I nearly felt my heart fail until I realized she didn’t say “love” to me directly, just “hanging” with me.

“C-cool!” I guess the Magical Michael Touch can’t fix all the stuttering. “So, um...when you’re done packing up….you wanna meet me outside…? Or walk with me to my locker…? Or…?”

“I have to use the bathroom actually,” she chimed. “Sorry, but I’ll just go wait outside for you. The oak tree good?”

“Y-yeah!” I blushed. “Don’t apologize. You can’t control your bladder.” Oh God. Why did I always say stupid things?

“See you soon!” she giggled. And just like that, she had skipped away, my tumbling nerves in her wake.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID IT!” I roared of a large volume unintentionally.

Michael just smiled. “I told you.”

\----

“I still can’t believe it…wow, Jeremy Heere you managed to not screw something up,” I muttered to more myself as I slammed my locker shut.

“You didn’t screw up at that SSB tournament we had the other day,” Michael offered lightly as we started to walk towards the school’s exit.

“I mean...I guess….” A sudden thought struck through me like lightening. “Do you want to come?”

“No dude, it’s your date! I don’t want to...interrupt….anything,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “Also, did you mention that it was near your house for a reason?”

“Shut up,” I flushed. “And...if you say so...I just hope I don’t fail without you with me.”

“You’ve hung with Christine without me a million times. It’ll be fine,” he nodded encouragingly.

“Thank you for just now….you really helped me back there.”

“It was nothing! I’ll see you around then? And who knows, maybe I’ll pop up out of nowhere during your date,” he teased.

“Just don’t screw up a possible ‘moment’,” I warned jokingly.

“Of course not.”

And with that, our paths forked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow sorry for such short chapters. I'm going to try to make these longer.
> 
> Thanks for reading this far! Feedback is appreciated.


	4. Upgrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to build up the relationship. Also I wanted an excuse to describe my geeky ways.

I enjoy seeing Jeremy happy. 

If I didn’t, what kind of friend would I be? Pfft.

Still, I felt a bit bad being so insecure about my lack of romance that I didn’t even want to go with them. At least I made a good enough excuse.

It’s ok, though...I wanted Jeremy to have fun without having to worry about my acting all dorky in the background. And maybe I could go out and see if I could get anything...maybe for that dance that’s coming up? I mean, even if I show up with no one, it’d probably be a good idea to get something nice to wear at least. Prom was of course out of the question...but that’s not until a couple of months.

Oh! Maybe I could go out and get some nerdy playing cards for Jeremy to celebrate his sure-to-be-successful date with Christine! Yeah! That sounded good.

I walked off the school grounds, dropping my backpack off at my house, barely waving a hi to my parents, before slinging on a casual messenger bag and heading off to the center of town. There were plenty of shops there, and a 7/11. Of course I had to stop at 7/11. You think I can get through the day without getting my slushy drug?

That was my first stop. 

“That’s all sir? One large Blue Raspberry slushie?”

“Yes, please. Thanks, dudette,” I grinned.

The young employee shot a sparkly smile back, and filled the cup past the rim. I liked this girl, she gave me a generous pour all the time.

She poked a straw into the liquid diabetes and handed the cup to me with another shiny typical smile. “Thanks,” I tried to make my expression as sunny as hers.

“It’s not problem, sweetie,” she replied with an edge of actual sweetness. My eyes wandered down her standard employee attire. They caught a plastic nametag she adorned on her breast. “Liz”.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a very cute young man?” 

“Huh?” My eyes darted back to her face, now bearing a slightly more genuine expression. “N-not...I mean...no one really notices me...or somethin’...like…” I interrupted myself by sucking on the straw to drink the slushy.

She threw her head back and laughed. It sounded good natured and attractive in a way, I guess.

“You are definitely cute. And humble too,” she giggled as she ruffled my hair. Now that I think about it she probably wasn’t too much older than me. Maybe the same grade. Still, I didn’t really like how she was raking her nails through my hair all of a sudden.

“T-thanks…?” I managed to stutter out. Wow, great, you’re acting all awkward now when a pretty girl compliments you. Yeah, dude you’re totally gonna be able to get a date. Yup, not a loser at all.

“You know, I don’t think I ever caught your name,” Liz offered absentmindedly, her eyes on me, still glazing over my face. 

“Michael….” I coughed out. “I see you’re...Liz.”

“Wha-” she started.

“Your nametag,” I cut her off rather rudely. “Oh! Um...I’m sorry...just, I saw it and…”

She laughed once again, which hit me with a slight pang of annoyance. “Oh, yeah, this thing.” Liz gestured at her nametag loosely. “But, just between, you and me…” her voice dropped along with her eyelids, gazing at me. Now that was weird. “I’m Heather.”

“O-oh!” I choked out. Yeah. Heather. Just a coincidence that she happened to share the name of the crazy school psycho-sluts. Yep, yep.

“Duke. Last name, Duke.”

Uh-huh, they just happened to share similar last names too. U-huh, this is totally fine I’M ABOUT TO DIE.

“W-what a coinky-dink!” Oh crap that was tasteless. “T-there’s this group of girls at my school who all share the name Heather..and they-t-they-one of them has the last name Duke.”

“Hmm. You know, I might know who you’re talking about.” Heather leaned in closer to my completely, utterly, terrified face.

“Yeah?” I squeaked.

“Yeah…” She licked her lips and moved in closer. “A shame I’ve never noticed you in the hallway, Mich-ael~” She enunciated each syllable with a dangerous amount of lust. What the hell.

“W-well...not a lot of people notice me and stuff..so yeah, that’s all good..it’s fine, I mean-” My face was flushed. I was not comfortable. No. No way.

“What’s your last name?”

“Mell!” I peeped.

“Oooohhhhh….Michael Mell. Yeah, I think I’ve heard of you. You’re that junior that saved all those buds at the play, huh? Shame I couldn’t go see it...maybe I could have started dating you….”

“Heuah?” I made an inhuman noise that should not have been made on the face of this planet. Her long curly lashes batted almost innocently...that’s BS right there...and she twisted her hair around on her finger as she finally pulled back from my face. “Well, Michael….if you ever want to just chat...or anything else...you can sure stop by at this 7/11. My shift runs from 4-6 and 8-10 Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Until then.”

Her shoes that could have paid for a good college tuition shuffled away, leaving me to stand at the counter in shock. “Y-yeah!” My voice shook as much as my glasses shivering on my face, clouded with hot breath from heavy breathing and cold sweat. “U-until then….”

I made it a point to try to not stop by between 4-6 and 8-10 on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays.

“Oh, and by the way,” she turned before letting me escape. “Don’t go gabbing to everyone at school that the most popular girl at Westerburg is working at the 7/11. It’s pretty...lame...the people that go here are all losers.” She pursed her lips as her hands creeped to her hips, wagging her finger in an antagonizing way. “And it might be a bit concerning to the other employees here. So, I’m just ‘Liz’, got it?”

“Got it.” I didn’t wait for any other talk and bolted out.

I’m not sure if I’m ready for this whole dating and getting a girlfriend thing.

Darting out of the convenience store, I seemingly just remembered the slushy I had tensely gripped in my hand. The previously frosty drink was now nearly just food-colored water. Groaning in disappointment, I still drank the warmer liquidized sludge and trudged off to the comicbook store. Time to get Jeremy those nerdy Cards.

Oh, man, Jeremy. Should I tell Jeremy? “Hey bud, how’d your date go? Just wanted to let you know that the crazy popular-bitch Heather Duke, you know, the one we never see because she’s always out smoking crack...I mean, pot and bullying kids, yeah that one, hit on me under the alias of Liz initially at the 7/11. She’s tall, got brown hair, and is going to tear me in half. No innuendos, just...literally.” Yeah no. Except that’s probably how it would go. So...it’s better if I don’t tell him.

Argh, but I can’t just keep this a secret! What if I ended up being used? That wouldn’t be good.

I slumped over, swimming in my thoughts as I groggily opened the door to the small but charming little geek shop. The comicbook store.

A cheerful ring reminded me of past adolescent memories as I pressed my hand against the frosted glass (probably due to a buildup of filth) and stumbled through the gateway. The gateway….to geek heaven.

Plenty of comics, vintage and new, lined either wall of the cramped facility. Rotating stands and bookshelves took up any unused area, both filled with more comics and graphic novels. In the center, a cluster of tables were gathered along with glass cases filled with figurines that were too expensive for the normal man to pay for. Spiderman, Dragon Ball, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, you name it, they got it. However, what my eyes were searching for was the gathering of shelves near the back...which gathered the Magic the Gathering cards (among other card games). Is that enough gathering for you?

Making a beeline for the item, I pushed past nerds engrossed in their comics as well as casual shoppers who were probably trying to find their nerdy friend a gift in a world they barely understood. I grabbed a pack, as my eyes also caught a pack of Pokemon Cards. A wave of nostalgia hit me. I mean...maybe he’ll enjoy these too. We always used to play this game when we were real young...I snatched up the pack as well as the Magic the Gathering one and paid for both of them at the register.

“Thank you for your purchase. It will fuel more of this geek-verse,” the employee quipped. 

I gave him the biggest smile I could muster and said, “Yep, this is just for a friend.”

“Oh, a friend, huh? Fellow nerd?”

“Indeed. He’s even got a Pac-Man tattoo.”

“Amusing. Well, enjoy your day, boy. I’m sure he’ll enjoy these.”

“You too, thanks.”

Feeling a bit satisfied with myself, I sipped on the rest of my slushy and strolled into another store. Maybe I should go and get myself some better clothes if I even want to get asked to the dance. Not that I wanted to ditch the sweatshirt, I just thought I needed a bit of an upgrade.

I sighed as I walked into some clothing store I had no idea how to navigate.

Time to start trying at this thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, Michael wants to be noticed~! Maybe he should get a Squip to help him. Oh, wait no, the side-effects (loss of body control and mental takeover!!!) might be a bit of a deal breaker.
> 
> Looks like he'll have to trust his judgement. If it's to be trusted.
> 
> Thanks for reading thus far! Also, I'd appreciate some comments....? Thanks for all the lovely Kudos, however! Keep being awesome, guys!


	5. How Does One Do The Shopping?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael shopping continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: All complaining from shopping are my own experiences.
> 
> Enjoy the (slightly longer?) chapter!

I suck at this thing.

How do people even choose clothes? How do people what clothes are considered good? What is good?

Ok, maybe my skills with apparel were limited, but this was way to freaking hard. There is no way this falls under human instinct.

Oh, and I don’t get the whole entire “It matches your eyes” or “It matches your skin/hair” thing. Is a part of your body considered an article of clothing now?

I sighed as I wandered through the rows of foreign fashion, just as confused as a pacifist would be in a knife shop.

So my mom had always been the one to shop for my clothes. I had thought it wouldn’t be that hard for me to do the same, heck I thought it would be easier because I knew myself better, but all this stuff was for people...way cooler than me. Like seriously, do plain fashionable clothes exist? Probably not.

Part of me wanted to ask what a man would wear to a dance, the other half of me didn’t because that would be the lamest and most pathetic thing ever.

Apparently on the flyer the school had passed out, they recommended a polo and khakis (what, was their taste of fashion the same as an arborist?). But polo and khakis could be a million different combinations of styles, colors….ok I was whining too much but that doesn’t mean that it was not extremely difficult.

Eventually, my gaze of hopelessness at the hangers seemed to catch someone’s eye. “Hey, need some help kid?”

I glanced up, and lo and behold it’s...someone I’ve never seen before in my life.

And a girl.

Crud.

“Oh, um-I-”

She stuck out a hand. “I’m currently looking for some stuff too. Even though it’s pretty unlikely for me to get a date, I’m trying to plan for a dance at my highschool,” she chuckled dryly.

“O-oh! Really? Me too!” I sputtered a bit too enthusiastically. “Just um...I’m kind of bad with clothes.”

“I mean, I guess I’m not the best, hah, I’m kind of considered a loser.” The girl seemed overly-bubbly for some reason. “But I do know what the girls always think of the guys. So I guess I could help you.”

“R-really? Well, um...if-if you don’t mind...it’s just I’m kind of desperate. Normally, I’d never ask this of anyone...it’s just...yeah. I’m also a loser...so yeah. Yeah.” I was always awkward. How could I possibly get less awkward?

“No problem! I have nothing better to do, hah,” she giggled. “My friend kind of ditched me.”

“So did mine! Well, I kind of encouraged him,” I shrugged. At her look of confusion, I clarified, “Oh, I helped him get a date. So he didn’t ditch, he’s just not with me for once.”

“Oh, I see. That’s nice.” A distant look shrouded her face until she tugged me on a scarlet sleeve. “Come on! Let’s help you find some clothes!”

“Oh, yeah!” I flushed. 

Her face immediately fell at my red one. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t tell you my name!” she apologized. 

“Oh, that’s not the reason-”

“I’m so very very sorry!” She was almost choking back tears.

“Don’t be sorry!” God, already a couple of seconds with a nice girl and she starts crying from you. Great job, geek.

“...It’s Martha.”

“Hi, Martha. I’m Michael. Mell. Um…”

“Michael Mell?” There was an air of shock in her voice. “Didn’t you save your friend Jeremy’s life with...Mountain Dew Red?”

My face turned, if possible, a deeper shade of crimson, dropping my back to the side of a clothing rack. “Well, yeah, I guess. Damn….I didn’t realize this was was popular schoolwide.”

“Of course it is! You saved someone’s life! Of course that’s popular! I think it’s spectacular!”

“...Really?”

“Yeah, I think it’s really cool!”

“‘Cool’?” I echoed back. That was the first time anyone’s told me that. Ever. Legit.

What.

I felt the clothing rack crack slightly underneath my weight.

“That’s what I consider cool, anyway. Not smoking weed and flirting with jocks,” she smiled, a happy, innocent smile.

“Wow...that’s...it’s an honor to be called that.” Although little did she know that I had offered to get Jeremy stoned in my basement multiple times. I’ve actually never gotten high. I’ve just wanted to try it, and with Jeremy.

“Trust me, you deserve it much more than the ones who get that title at my school. Take it from someone who’s friends with one of them.” An edge of bitterness tainted Martha’s voice.

“You are?” I was in shock. She was dissing her own friend? (Even though it seemed said friend was automatically a jerk because she was a popular kid.) Still, from the brief seconds I had known her, Martha seemed more soft-spoken. And she seemed the last person to even consider being friends with a popular kid.

“Veronica. Sawyer.”

“So you go to Westerburg too?” She nodded. “Hey, she hasn’t been popular for that long though, right? Only this year,” I stated. I then caught a sigh in my throat, dropping my eyes to my feet in embarrassment from my probably insensitive speculation.

“I’ve known her for almost my whole life. She’s never been popular. Than boom, she does something one day and scores popularity. I should feel good for her, but I don’t. I know that’s selfish because she’s gone onto greater things than just fat old Martha Dumptruck, but...I can’t help it.” She stared at me soberly for a moment, until her flustered nature came back. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to ramble...just I’ve had no one to talk to about it. And you’re the first person I’ve met that kinda looked like you care so…”

“No! I absolutely care….in fact, the same thing sort of happened to me. Jeremy was a loser with me too, then he took this pill and...long story short he gained popularity and the girls and then I realized this pill was going to kill him and the school so I rushed in with Mountain Dew Red and...well, you probably know the rest.” I raised my gaze to her, fixing my glasses and position on the clothing rack.

“I’m...so sorry that happened,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry. You already make up for it with empathy.”

The next thing I knew, I was hugging Martha. In the middle of the boy’s section in a clothing store. Sucking tears in my face.

Well, this is certainly not where I expected to be doing after school when not with Jeremy.

“W-well….we should probably start looking for your clothes,” Martha reasoned, breaking the silence.

“Y-yeah…” I quickly pulled away. “So um…yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.”

“We should get going.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

“Michael?”

I turned my head to face her as we headed off to the proper section. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Next thing I knew, I had a girl maneuvering me through the men’s section. I’m not exactly sure what all the stuff she said about “complementing my features” and something being “so out of style now” meant, but I did know that I had a couple of options in my hand after a few minutes. We headed to the dressing room together, Martha patiently waiting outside while I struggled to get some shirts through my head without messing up my gelled hair.

“Hm, it looks good on you, but it might be a bit too formal.”

The formality showed through the lack of comfort. As I stepped out of the stall, tugging at the tie around my collar my face felt even hotter than before. There I wore a full-on suit. Not tailored to me, of course, but close enough.

And nope. I was not going this route.

“Next option, please,” I choked.

Martha chuckled. “I would think so.”

I disappeared once again and came out with a slightly more reasonable both in price and flashiness, outfit. “How about this?”

Martha lifted her eyes up to face me. “I mean it’s nice on you...but what do you think?” 

I glanced in the mirror at the striped blue polo and light tan khakis I adorned. I mean, it would probably look better on some other guy. It followed the recommendations exactly, and yep, I kind of looked like some awkward arborist for some reason.

“Not exactly my style,” I admitted. “And this striped polo is reminding me of Jeremy’s shirt too much.”

For a third (and hopefully last time) I closed the closet door. I had a good feeling about this one, though. Third time’s the charm, right?

“Ok, this better looks good because I’m tired of searching,” I mumbled as I stepped out.

“Oh! Michael it looks great! Look in the mirror!”

So I did.

“I knew I had the whole entire thing right about it going with your hair and eyes! See, burgundy looks nice with the whole dark thing. Also, gray always looks cooler than tan khakis, right? Plus, personally I think shirts under sweaters vests look cool, but maybe that’s just me. Well, what do you think?” Martha gushed, half proud of herself and half admiring her choices.

All I could do was nod. I had no idea how clothes worked, but I had to admit this looked about as good as I could imagine. The deep wine-colored sweater vest contrasted the white shirt underneath nicely, and the slate gray pants seemed to complement the warmer colors surprisingly nicely. “Yeah…”

Martha grinned a gigantic smile. “Let’s get it then! It looks perfect!” She started pulling on my sleeve in enthusiasm until I reminded her.

“I need to change first.”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed at herself. I had to admit, she was cute. Not in a way I’d be attracted too, but I can make compliments about a girl without liking her, right?

Martha reminded me that...well, maybe I could talk to girls. Not necessarily in a flirtatious way, but compared to the downright terrifying tiger of Heather Duke earlier, she was a burst of comfort. Maybe, just maybe...I could sense a friendship blooming of tragedy. One of those flowers that despite being beautiful, could have mixes and splashes of imperfection, which might even be the best parts.

I paid for the clothes at the register and we headed out of the store both in high spirits. I checked my phone for the time. 6:30.

“Do you have to be anywhere?” I questioned bluntly.

“No, not really. You?”

“Could do homework...but nah. Not due until next week anyway.”

“Wanna hang?” she asked nervously, as if afraid of any sort of answer.

“Why not! How about we go to the 7/11? I need a proper slushie.” Besides, it isn’t Heather’s shift right now, I reminded myself internally.

“Yeah sure!” Martha giggled as I grabbed her hand and steered her in the direction of the place I could walk to in my sleep.

Maybe I still had no chance at any girlfriends, but I had a shot at girl friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the arborist not so subtle "jokes".
> 
> Thanks for reading this far! Feedback is, as always, appreciated.


	6. Caramel and Pineapple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short little addition I just wrote today.
> 
> Frozen yogurt fun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing fancy, I just spit this thing out after an idea came to mind.
> 
> We'll get back to plot-y stuff later!

“Caramel and pineapple?”

My face lit up in amusement, while Jeremy’s drooped in embarrassment and...is that a hint of shame?

“W-well...I don’t know….” Jeremy flushed, gripping his frozen yogurt cup. “I just like...both flavors, so I got both….sorry...I know that’s probably not good or anything or…”

“Jeremy, you’re such a worrywart,” I giggled. He really was, always apologizing and flustered.

“W-well….I can’t really switch it out now so-”

“Stop apologizing, please, Jeremy. It’s completely fine,” I assured. “Seriously, can’t you take a teensy joke?”

“W-well….it’s just…” he stuttered as he continued along the aisle, trying to escape me subtly.

I bumped his shoulder playfully. “Get anything you like, I won’t judge you. Heck, get all the flavors.”

He turned around, his expression of worry warping into that of slight plotting. “Ok then.”

Playing with the levers of the frozen yogurt machines, he laughed quietly to himself, until whipping himself around bearing an...interesting...mix of colors. “There we go.”

I silently put my own empty cup back. “Looks like I don’t need this anymore.”

Despite his reaction to having every single flavor of frozen yogurt in his very hand, all he wanted for a topping was whipped cream. “I think it will overpower everything else if I have more,” he explained sheepishly.

“Fair enough,” I shrugged, slipping into one of the comfy booths with him, facing each other on opposite sides.

“Ok so….” Jeremy took a spoon and scooped up a load of the rainbow mess before popping it into his mouth. “Let’s see….banana, caramel, and coconut. That’s what I taste.”

“Wait!” I did the same with my own spoon. “Hmm...chocolate, peanut butter, coconut, and pineapple!”

“Ok then….you got four? I’ll get more!” He shoveled into the already melting pile of mystery. “Coconut, strawberry, chocolate, cotton candy, caramel, AND green tea!”

We continued this exchange for a bit until there was only a couple of spoonfuls left. The game reduced into casual chatter and other means of joking.

“Look, it’s a rainbow of flavors,” I pointed out.

“Gay pride,” Jeremy added automatically.

A sudden question struck my mind. “Do you support the LGBTQ+ community?”

He started at me for a second as if I was an alien from one of the videogames he played. “Of course! I have to, obviously, if I’m friends with a gay person. Best friends”

“You are?” I questioned. I mean, Jake and Rich act pretty gay, but I know they’re both bi, not just gay. And I’m pretty sure not them or Chloe and Brooke are in his “Best Friends” group. Which meant…

“Michael??” I blurted a bit too surprisingly.

“...Yeah,” he confirmed as if it were a well-known fact.

“But he’s never said...I mean, you don’t have to, but...like, still,” I tumbled over my words a bit to cover up any sign of homophobia, which I of course did not have.

“God, you’re stumbling over your words as much as me,” he chuckled softly. “I know he hasn’t publicly announced it,” he admitted. “But as his friend for many years now...I can tell you….he is so very gay.”

“In what way?” I interrogated gently, trying not to seem pry-ish before taking another spoonful of yogurt.

“Well, there was this guy a bit ago, Kurt Connors. Every time he’d walk in the hallway, Michael would point and say, ‘I really hope he’s gay’. And I’d say, ‘Why?’. And he’d say, ‘Just in case’. And when Kurt dies, Michael seemed really sad for a couple of days. He now insists that it was just because of after the Halloween party, but...I’m not convinced that’s all.”

“Oh wow,” I chuckled. “But you sure that’s not a onetime thing?”

“Oh no.” Jeremy gave me a look of pure determination, one I’ve never seen on his face before. “There was this time he had a crush on Jake...yes, Jake….and he’d tell me, ‘Man, if he wasn’t ridiculously popular...which I can totally see why he is, by the way, have you checked out those abs???….I would have tried to become friends with him, y’know?’. Then I said, ‘Am I not enough?’ in a bit of a hurt tone….” Jeremy took a deep breath. “Then Michael said, ‘No, no, not at all! Just….close with him in a different way…” Jeremy smiled softly, fondly thinking of his best friend. “He’s never told me personally, but I’ve just told him that I’d always have his back, no matter what.”

“You’re a good friend, Jeremy,” I complimented. I was being completely honest, too. Being able to hold onto a friend for so long...an appreciative-worthy achievement. “Michael’s a lucky guy…”

“Ya think?” he blushed, seemingly just realizing how much he’d been rambling about his friend. “I think I’m more lucky...he stuck with me through the Squip thing.”

I placed a hand over his, squeezing it softly. “You’re lucky for eachother, then.”

“I guess I can agree on that,” he beamed, until just realizing that my hand was on top of his. His body heat escalated tremendously and he fidgeted ever so slightly. “So, um…” His eye caught the last spoonful of yogurt. “Here, have the last bit.”

“What? Oh no, I can’t. You have it, you deserve it.” I patted his hand.

Once again, he looked like he was about to self-combust. “N-no! It would be rude. Like, the man always lets the woman do everything on a date right?? Not that I’m sexist or anything. Oh God, is this a date to you? I just assumed it was bu-”

I cut him off by shoving the spoon into his mouth. Even his ears were now pink.

“You stop rambling, then I’ll let you play gentleman,” I winked. 

“F-bu-I-jus-”

“Come on, let’s go throw this out.” I gestured towards the empty cup and two spoons. When he responded inaudibly, I simply grabbed his hand and steered him out of the cafe, dropping the cup into the trash bin. I tugged him onto a bench, and even when he sat, I refused to let go of his hand.

After an interval of silence he quivered, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I shot a quizzical look in his direction. “Why?”

“I’m just..really uncool...and I thought this thing would go nicely and…” he mumbled.

“Stop it,” I grinned. “This was a great date.” I emphasized the last word.

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” I nodded warmly.

“...Well, you’re wrong,” he muttered.

“Jeremy-!” I started in a concerned manner.

“It’s not done yet.” He lifted me off the bench with our linked arms and started briskly leading me to the park.

“So you’re bolder than I thought!” I smiled, quickening my pace so our steps could match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I want frozen yogurt.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry. Christine's POV is really hard for me to write in.
> 
> Thanks for reading this far! Feedback is, as always, appreciated! Thank you for all the lovely Kudos!
> 
> Also, check out this short trashy joke animation I made, if you feel like it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MJO57fyh7ZM


	7. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JD POV=angsty chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOAH MAN sorry for the lack of updates recently. But here's a meaningful chapter!

"So, you ever dated anyone?"

I turned to Martha with a quizzical look, as if there COULD be no answer but "Um, no. I'm a loser that repels girls." Instead of that, I chose the slightly milder, "Nah, girls don't really like me." I grinned weakly.

"Gay?" she asked casually.

I turned pink, the dark sidewalk we were trudging on suddenly seeming very interesting. "Huh? Well, uh...I don't know. I'll admit I think some guys look nice..But I don't think so..." Man, that's some nice cobblestone!

"Ok," she shrugged. "I don't mind. We don't need to know who we're attracted to necessarily as of now. I was just curious."

I started to face her, then jerked away to hide my expressions. "Oh. Well...that's very thoughtful."  
Martha smiled a tight smile. "For better or worse. Veronica always thought I was too nice or hopeful."

Again I shot a confused face once again. "Those aren't bad traits, I'd say. At all. I'd much rather hang with you then..." The 7/11 came into view. "Heather Duke."

"I'd hope so," she chuckled placidly. "She's...something is rather not say."

So she didn't like to curse, huh? Maybe her former friend had a point...a nice girl like her gets mangled at our school. You gotta have some sort of wall or support to avoid getting run over by the popular corporations. Mine was Jeremy...without him in just, well, a Michael in the bathroom.

"After you." I held open the door to the flickering lights of the establishment.

"Thank you!" she sunnily said as she walked through.

"...I need a slushy," I admitted, heading straight for the machines and thankfully not seeing Heather D(ick) waiting for me. Just some regular dude. He didn't give me a generous pour, but he also wasn't all up in my face, which was nice.

I can appreciate a nice guy like that.  
___  
So here I am again, lurking outside the 7/11 at night. No one ever comes by at night. Ok, that's a lie, some people. Actually a lot. Just no one that matters, ok? Man, so many meaningless lives like mine floating around. It's enough to make someone want to KILL themself.

Nononono. Just...SCHLRURP...freeze that brain...No killing yourself...You still have hope you might end up like..like...  
Like that COUPLE you saw a couple hours ago. They didn't look too much older than you, huh? A skinny beanpole nervously shaking next to a pretty black-haired girl. If Mr. Anorexic can get a date, so can you, right? RIGHT?  
SCHLRURP. Again...Don't worry so much....

I sucked on my straw with more ferocity. I probably was making a racket but I didn't care. I just needed to block it out.

I, I, I. Me. Me. Me. Is that all I care about? Am I lost because I don't care? About OTHERS? Others who don't give a crap about me? Why should I care? WHY should I care about the people that push me in the hallway, call me a "fag" (that word disgusts me to no end), shun away. WHY should I notice the people who don't notice me? WHY should I help people who don't stop to help me? WHY SHOULD I CARE?

SCHLRURP. Out of the goodness of my heart? SCHLRURP. Out of kindness? SCHLRURP. Out of hope? SCHLRURP. 

Out of slush.

Oh please, don't make me cackle like the monster people see me as. Those things won't get you anywhere in highschool. Those things just hinder your survival. They're absolute BS and those assemblies and motivational speeches prove that they're nothing more than stale, hollow, jumbles of letters of symbols. Layers upon layers of foolery that when peeled apart like the dollar apple tart at the very convenience store I'm leaning on, reveal a manipulative center of hippies that see that "good is in the world".

Life is pain. I'm not hormonal. I just see the truth.

An empty cup clatters onto the blacktop. Environmentalists can go eat my crap.

But...if there's one person who deserves my kindness it is Michael Mell. He's done what others haven't. He's made you smile. He's made you hope. He's made you stop casually shoplifting occasionally.

I breath in and out deeply, trying to calm myself, filling my head with thoughts of Michael. 

What was the point though? I sucked in air, missing my straw. Michael Mell will never like you. I really missed my straw. He's clearly going to better people. I willed for a straw to appear. He probably thinks you're a psychopath like the rest of them. I needed my straw. He probably thinks you'll murder him in his sleep. HELP. He thinks of you touch him, you'll give him rabies. I NEED IT. He thinks you carry a gun in your jacket pocket. I swipe my cup from the ground. He hates you. Desperately, I suck on the straw to attempt to get some FREEZE- He'll run away from you. ANYTHING MAKE IT STOP. He wants you to stop. I NEED IT. He wants you gone. I NEED AIR. He wants you to-

STOP BREATHING.

In a frenzy, I smashed the cup on the ground. CRASH. I felt wind whipping as my legs move. I pressed my hand against cold glass. I spotted many colors. I spotted a spot the slushy machine. My mouth is on the spout.  
My eyes are on Michael Mell. Michael Nell is looking at you. He's LOOKING AT YOU!

He's looking at you sucking off of the frigid metal of the slushy machine, hand ranged against the button, the other hand stuck in midair as you had shoved the employee out of the way, a twisted ravenous look in your eyes.

Michael Mell is looking at the monster Jason Dean.

You feel broken. I feel broken. Your-my eyes never leave him as I rush out of the store as tears blur and well. I try to make sure he can't see me anymore. He doesn't need to see my tears. 

The only thing I left is a splatter of slush in my wake and a frightful image of myself in his mind.  
As I escaped, I noticed three silhouettes in the window. Three. The employee, Michael, and-

A girl.

Of course.

Michael wasn't like me, partnerless. Of course a wonder like him had a girlfriend. Of course.

I was a fool to think I had any hope.

That's when I gave up all hope and kindness.  
___

As a blur of dark clothes swept past me, only one thought rang in my mind:

"Man, he really likes slushies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hereby summon all my past angsty teen thoughts INTO THIS CHAPTER!!!
> 
> With the exception of love interest. I had none of those.
> 
> Thanks for reading this far! As always, feedback is appreciated! Thank you all for the Kudos! Can we try for some comments, please? :>


	8. His Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking between the bros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got inspired and wrote this! I think this is longer! Or maybe just a bunch of dialogue *shrugs*

I awoke earlier than usual the next morning. Yawning as I searched for my glasses blindly, I tried not to fall off the edge of my bed. Eventually, I found the black rims, reaching for them with my entire hand, getting the lenses clouded and dirty. Shoot.

On the bright side, it was Saturday! Yaay! Or something.

Rubbing my temple, I scrambled out of my bed to attempt to clean up. Crap, Jeremy was going to come over later at 1 to play Apocalypse of the Damned! Not that he cared about my messy room, but I had to sort some things out.

First things first, his celebratory date gift? Wedged between my Squirtle plush and Pac-Man nightlight. Check.

Second, fix my bed somewhat? Check. Well, it was good enough. Underneath some covers, I found the receipts from yesterday: 2 7/11s and one from that clothing store. They varied greatly in price.

Crap. My clothes.

I had to put them away, or wash them, or dryclean them? That's what you do with nice clothes, right? Or do you dryclean right before the occasion...?

They ended up shoved in the back of my unruly closet.

I grabbed the reciepts, stashing the 2 7/11s in a jar. (It's a long story. Jeremy once made a joke that I went to 7/11 to buy slushies more times than he went to the videogame store. We set out to count but kinda forgot about the bet and now I just collect them.)

That night at 7/11, though! Man, whoever that was...really needed a slushy. Bad. His bloodshot eyes made someone think it was his own cocaine. Surprisingly for a rather skinny guy, though.

I'd have to tell Jeremy all about it later.

After getting my room sufficiently tidied up (by my low standards, anyway), I managed to sneak a glance at the clock. 11am. I had time. 

One thought overtook me. Breakfast.

I grabbed my phone and slid down the stairs, making a fun dismount by leaping off the rail. Thank God my parents were not around for the week. 

As I fried up some bacon and eggs, I subconsciously checked my phone.

Heere's my man has sent a picture message.

I almost flipped the bacon out the window upon opening it.

There, crystal clear on my nearly cracked iPhone, was Christine and Jeremy on the swings of the town park, holding hands, beaming, flying through the air.

I didn't even question how he got the picture. I just furiously texted back.

Me: OMIGOD CONGRATS DUDE.  
Me: YOU LOOK SO CUTE PRECIOUS COUPLE IT'S OFFICIAL.  
Me: DID U FUCK.

I only felt slightly guilty sending the last one. Longtime bros have special privileges, ok?  
It took as long as it took for me to slide my breakfast on a plate and pour an orange juice for him to respond.

Heere's my man: My God Michael stop.  
Heere's my man: We just went froyo and did the park.  
Heere's my man: Btw, what's w/ late response? Out fucking someone yourself? ;)  
Heere's my man: Guess you didn't have time to stalk my date lol.

My heart sank slightly when I realized I hadn't responded right away. I guess I hadn't been paying attention last night and I just crashed without a second thought when I got home.

Me: Sorry man, crazy shit hpnd. I just crashed when I got home cri. Do u forgive me???

Heere's my man: Omg of course I was just joking!!! You know you can count on me, rite? Tell me this afternoon? 

Me: I was just joking too lol. And don't worry, nothing bad. Just...crazy u, know?

Heere's my man: We'll talk.

Me: Yeah c u soon. Ttyl bro.

Heere's my man: C yah.

I placed my phone on the table as I began to eat my colder eggs and bacon. Boy, did I have stories to tell!   
After consuming the most important meal of the day, I disposed my dishes into the overflowing sink. Take care of that later.

Digging my hands into my hoodie's pockets, I sensed a foreign object. Nervously, I yanked it out, expecting the worse. I opened my hand and there lied-

A fricking post-it. 667-819-4382? Huh?

Oh. Martha's number. 

I had meant to put it in my phone last night, but ended up forgetting.

So, I took care of business.

Satisfied with my work, I decided to text the number to see if it worked or not.

Me: Hey, it's me Michael. Just checking to make sure I have the right #.

A few seconds wait, then...

Martha: Michael? Oh, hello! Yup, you got it right, it's Martha!  
Martha: Have a good sleep?

Me: Yeah thxs 2 u probs. Thxs 4 helping me out yest. Boosted my spirit lol.

Martha: My pleasure. I can say the same for me~!

I carefully noted how she always used correct grammar when texting.

Me: I'd love 2 chat but Jerm's comin over soon so I gtg

Martha: Until next time!

Me: Bai.

Pocketing my phone, I ran upstairs to retrieve Jeremy's gift, heading back downstairs just as I heard a knock on the door.

"Jeremy's Heere!" he announced comically.

"Coming!" I rushed to the door, opening it with the paper bag hidden behind my back. "Well look who's Heere."

"I've always been Heere," Jeremy snickered, leaning in for my bro hug. "Now, time to talk."

"Dude! Stuff happened! I gotta tell you! And you gotta tell me how that date went!" I pointed upstairs. "And Apocalypse of the Damned is waiting for us. Come on."

As we skipped up, full of energy, he pointed to my arm. "What's that?"

"Huh?" I looked down.

For the third time today, crap. It was his surprise gift. 

"You...weren't supposed to see that," I replied sheepishly as I opened the door to my room.

"I never did," he assured, stepping in. "Ah, home sweet dump, amiright?"

"Home sweet heaven," I contradicted.

"If my dad didn't make me clean my room every century it WOULD look like this," Jeremy admitted.

"Good. And, uh, surprise!" I pulled the paper bag from behind me. 

"What?" His face quirked in confusion. Nevertheless, I kept it thrusted in his direction, him eventually taking it. "For me?"

"Yup! To celebrate asking out your longtime crush!"

"Wha? Michael, you didn't have to!" He blushed uncomfortably.

"Yes I did. It's no problem really! Go on, open it!"

He popped the stapled top open. "Oh my God I love you."

I grinned maniacally. "Knew you'd like them."

"Dude, MTS is king! And Pokemon-holy shit. The memories."

"Before all the new series."

"When there was a set amount."

"Those were the times."

"We sound like geek grandpas."

"I mean, we used to play the cards and videogames in your basement.

"You always used Clefairy."

"He is my CHILD."

We laughed for a bit before I pulled up 2 beanbag chairs, starting up AOTD. "So tell me-" I patted the puffy seat. "All about your date."

Delight shined in his eyes as he recalled the previous night. "Well-" He plopped into the chair, laying the bag of cards at his side. "I was a nervous wreck walking into the cafe. She laughed at my screwups and stutters." He caught the controller I threw at him. "We had a convo bout frozen yogurt games and gays. Dude, she's pro-LGBT!"

"Nice, gotta be though, hanging out with Rich and Gayke," I chuckled softly, using Jake's nickname.

"And, uh. I took her to the park and we hung around. She's surprisingly...not very romantic. Just light and happy and full of random information and theatre facts." 

"You sure seemed to have a good time," I nodded, happy and proud for him.

"Yeah, seems weird but halfway through we kinda seemed to hit it off, like as good as a relationship with me can go, y'know? It went better than I expected."

"It went just as well as I thought it would." I clapped him on the back. "Congrats."

"Thanks again for lowkey saving me yesterday, though," he shrugged, as if this wasn't an amazing accomplishment for geekkind.

"No probs. So dude," I leaned in closer to his face. "...You kiss?"

Jeremy immediately flushed. "NONONO. We're not that far yet!"

"Will be soon. Then the next step," I teased as I wiggled my eyebrows.

"Oh, stop." He hit me playfully. "Let's just play the damn game."

"You got it, playboy." I switched on the glowing TV screen and we nestled in comfortable positions, ready to play.

We were halfway through level 2 (we were attempting a full play through) when Jeremy decided to whirl his head in my direction, worry full in his blue eyes. "Oh wait! I'm so sorry!"

"Huh? Why're you sorry, man?" I clicked an attack combination.

"I was so caught up talking about my yesterday that I didn't hear about yours! You said you wanted to talk!" he stammered anxiously.

"You being here already helped a lot." He gave me an unconvinced look. "Ok, fine, I'll tell."

"Alright," he sidled up beside me, ready to confront what had happened.

"So you know Heather Duke?"

"Yeah, who doesn't?"

"Well, she kind of hit on me-"

"WHAT." Jeremy screeched. "And I thought I scored a date! All the guys are after the remaining Heathers! How did you-"

"I didn't want it!" I protested. "She's scary creepy! Looks like she's going to murder me!"

"Heather Duke has the hots for you, Michael Mell!" he restated shrilly.

"Shhhh! She didn't want me to tell anyone or she's ACTUALLY going to murder me!" I clicked more buttons frantically.

"Ok, I won't tell...But STILL."

"Anyway," I panted, recalling traumatic memories. "I bought some stuff and had this really sweet girl, Martha, help me pick out some clothes!"

"'Pick out some clothes'? Am I talking to the right Michael who always wears a red hoodie?" he mockly questioned.

"For the dance."

"Oh." He seemed to understand.

"Who I might ask, actually. I assume you and Christine are together and Martha seems nice enough and dateless, so..."

"Go for it. Even if you'll get ogled at if you choose Duke."

"I don't like Duke." I retorted flatly.

"You don't have to like what everyone chases after. Makes life easier."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Then, actually, I went back to 7/11 to get another slushie."

"Typical," Jeremy deadpanned.

"And dude-"  
_-_

A mysterious...teen? He looked like a highschool, too, actually. -Had just swept in, dressed all black, like a shadow passing through the store. The rest was a blur but when he finally settled it was on the slushy machine. With his mouth on the spout. His eyes...bloodshot too, but his eyes...we're right on me. Predetorial...if not a little sad.   
In a miniature exchange, I saw his eyes gloss over, then the next thing I knew her was out. The shadow had passed once again.

I couldn't get that image of those eyes, clouded in expressions, out of my head.

I offered to clean up the spilled slush from the ground, the employee apologizing immensely for a reason I can't pinpoint. I guess people just really like to apologize.

As I sopped up the spilled Blue Rasberry with a towel, I noticed among the spills of azure speckles of clear.

Tears.

I frowned, remembering his somber eyes.

"Pretty weird guy, huh?" Martha offered in the silence.

"Not weird...I sense misunderstood," I contradicted.  
___-___

"So he breast-fed off the slushy machine?" Jeremy asked bluntly.

"Yeah, I guess," I chuckled dryly. "Wish I knew his name..."

"Dude! Level Nine!" Jeremy chimed, starting our chant.

"The Cafetorium!" we cheered together, moving off the topic like a storm front.

I wanted to find out his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And his name is...
> 
> JOHN CENAAAAA
> 
> Sorry, dead meme.
> 
> Thanks for reading this far! As always, feedback is appreciated, thanks for the Kudos! And I am always open to feedback in the comments! Tell me what you liked, or better yet even, didn't like so I can make better chaps in the future!


	9. Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title?
> 
> I tried to do something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be confusing. Sorry.

Unfortunately, I didn't really have the opportunity to find out. School happened, with several essays and projects as well as the daily humiliation. God, I'm grateful for my player 2.  
___-___

I decided not to go back to the 7/11. I had terrible withdrawal symptoms from the lack of slushies, but it was worth it to not do anything terrible in front of Michael again.  
____-____

Before I knew it, the dance had come up. And before I knew it, I had to ask a certain someone.  
__-__

Before I knew it, the dance had shown its ugly ass. I had to ask someone...or maybe just show up alone like the loser.

The latter seemed more realistic.  
__-__

"Hey, um...Martha...will you go to the dance with me?"  
I stood pensively, waiting for an answer from her nearly blank expression.

___-___

I hated the fact that I had so many delusional hopes and dreams.

And the fact that I role played to myself.

"Michael Mell, will you go to the dance with me?"

I stared in the mirror confidently.  
___-___

"Oh my God are you actually...holy...yes, Michael!" she answered gleefully.

In seconds, her arms were wrapped around my torso, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

"Thank you thank you! I never thought I'd be going like this! I can't believe it!" she beamed, continuing to good-naturedly strangle me.  
___-___

But all that stared back at me was Jason Dean in his dad's old dress shirt from a suitcase in the basement.

"Oh my God...I'm actually this desperate," I choked, dropping my head to no longer have to look in the mirror, at my pathetic self.

I pressed my hand against the glass, longing for an embrace.

"I never thought I'd be going like this," I softly hissed to avoid sobbing. Curling my fingers over the glass, I continued seething. "I never thought I'd end up like this. I can't believe it."

It was to be expected. This is why I wanted to stop dreaming.

I turned away from the mirror, not able to look in it anymore.

__-__

I walked away with Martha, glad to have her at my side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a thing. Short, but that's the point pfft.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading this far! As always feedback is appreciated! Thanks for the awesome Kudos and consider leaving a constructive or memey comment? Thanks guys!


	10. Opened it for Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Jeremy talk more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mhm, I'm back! And Michael needs a hug badly.

“So dude, how’d it go?”

I glanced at Jeremy, waiting for his answer.

“She squealed yes, gave me the brightest smile, and started showing me her dress options,” he chuckles to me. “But...I’m still kinda nervous.”

“Why? She definitely wants to go with you,” I reasoned blankly, leaning on the back of a chair. 

“Just...I don’t want to screw up…” he mumbled, playing with his hands as a nervous tick.

Jeremy seemed to be more worried than usual, yes a relationship can be tough, but she’s his DREAM CRUSH. It shouldn’t have surprised me, Jeremy is a ball of nerves, but I thought he could chillax when he finally reached a goal. Then again, maybe he doesn’t want to disappoint her or me.

I was suddenly struck with the realization and fear that I didn’t know Jeremy’s romantic way of handling things, and not being very experienced myself, I could barely help him with this.

That was a scary thought, if anything went wrong.

Lost in thoughts, I absentmindedly climbed on top of the desk between us.

“Dude, you ok? Did everything go well with you and Martha?”

“Eh?!” I shook myself awake from my thoughts, bouncing back to the very dull brown classroom we were sitting in. “U-um, it was all good! She hugged me and stuff, squealed too, and agreed. But I just want to tell you...I don’t love this girl.”

“What?” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “Well that sounds cold.”

“Not like I hate her!” I waved my hands in front of my face in denial. “Just...well, I have no sexual attraction to her.”

“Is it because she’s chubbier or something?” Jeremy suggested maybe half sincerely.

“No! What you think I’m that shallow?” I shook my head. “I’m not sure why too. She’s nice, she’s accepting of me, and very educated in the movie department. To be honest, I feel like I might’ve been even more attracted to you at some point!” I flushed.

Instead of meeting frightened and confused eyes I was expecting from Jeremy, I met an unsurprised and….was that the trace of a smug smirk?

“Michael, it’s ok, I’ve known for a while,” he softly whispered, casually resting his arm on his chair.

“WHAT?! What do you know???” I was utterly puzzled. Did he know something about me that I didn’t? Jeremy knew more about my romantic preferences and experiences than I did his? Now that just felt unfair and...slightly wrong.

_-_

“I know. Jake, and Kurt…” I offered to recall any old memories.

“What about Jake and Kurt?” Michael choppily responded.

“You’ve given me blatant descriptions of guys you think are cute. And you’ve done some pretty obvious double-takes to some guys in the hallway.” Hello, Michael Mell are you here? I felt like I needed to call this at his cranium from the lack of response I was getting. I climbed on top of the desk he was on, trying to close our gap and possibly his confusion.

“I still don’t get to what you’re hinting at,” Michael finally responded, tilting his head. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted some sort of shadow. We should probably speed this conversation up before students walk in on us before class.

“Michael, you’re gay!” I fiercely whispered, making the point very clear to cut down on confusion. “You have thoughts about guys that I do with girls. You may not have realized it because you were really not all that big on crushes, but I’ve seen the little ones you have.”

His pupils dilated in shock as the thought dawned on him.

“I am so thick,” Michael stated flatly.

“Uh...what?” I scrunched up my temples, caught off guard by that comment. “Umm, I’m not sure how body type came up, but-”

“I mean thick as in dense! Like, how did I not realize this?” He gave a throaty attempt at a snicker.

“Michael-” I started.

_-_

Of course, it made sense now. Maybe this is why I was shunned so much before. Or at least a supporting reason (super-lame nerd that buys retro everything and dances to Marley in the hallway isn’t that popular, regardless of sexuality). 

“Just...um...wow. You opened the closet for me,” I chuckled nervously. Now that he mentioned it, it seemed so obvious.

“Michael-” He had said that before. What did he want to say so much? And if he didn’t want to say anything, why did he keep saying my name?

“Jeremy, what do you want to say?” I’ll admit there was a bite of sass in those words, but my patience was waning.

“Oh-um!” He stuttered again. Always unsure, Jeremy. He couldn’t even be sure to his best friend?

“Do you want to tell me something or not?” I reused that rude tone, only feeling a little sorry.

“Look,” Jeremy suddenly said urgently, gripping my shoulders with his nimble fingers. “I. Love. You. As a friend, I’m pretty sure, like not dating or anything. And I just want to let you know I don’t care if you’re gay. I love that you’re gay. Because I love everything about you. You’re my BEST FRIEND,” he confirmed firmly. 

_-_

It just came out out of nowhere. I just had to let him know! “I don’t know if you’re bi, but even if you’re straight, gay, bi, ace, pan, whatever, I don’t care. I just want you to know I’ll always be there ok? Cause...cause you are. And I know I let you down before! And I’ll never do that again!” I almost screamed the last few sentences, toning it down at last moment, remembering that we were in a classroom still at school. 

Then, out of nowhere, he started crying.

“W-why are you crying???” I anxiously interrogated. 

“Just...it’s too much at once?” Water was clear in his voice, pouring into every word emotionally. I could only imagine...I had just thrusted all that at him…

_-_

I simply didn’t know what else to say. And I certainly didn’t want to break down. But it still happened.

It happened because I realized I could throw those words back at them and they’d be true. Not that I think he’s gay, but he’s always going to be my friend, regardless of how much he’ll change. It was a very VERY real reminder of the Real Jeremy after dealing with Fake Jeremy mere weeks ago. 

The plastic shell was down broken and gone for good.

“I know, buddy, I kind of-” Jeremy patted one shoulder a bit somberly. “I-I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be sorry!” I shrieked between tears. “Don’t feel guilty! You shouldn’t feel guilty for love...and hope...and kindness,” I sobbed.

“Michael-”

“I love you too!” I announced, wrapping my arms around him to attempt to crush the flames of negativity starting to be fawned by my eye’s waters. The flames that licked at everyone everyday, in this school or not. “T-thank you...I’ll always be there…”

“I’ll always be here,” Jeremy muffled into my thick hoodie.

I wasn’t sure how long we were glued in that empty classroom. However long it was, I wouldn’t mind having it longer.

“...You’ve always been Heere.” I offered.

“Wow,” Jeremy said, speech still somewhat muffled by my attire. “Way to ruin a moment.”

“I Heere footsteps in the hallway,” I weakly admitted.

“Shit, we’re lucky we weren’t caught,” Jeremy stammered, urgently detached himself. “We gotta look normal.”

“‘K.” I leaped off the desk we were sitting on, bolted to my assigned seat, and slipped on my headphones, tuning into Marley.

“Perfect,” Jeremy complemented, giving me a thumbs up as he started to write jibberish into his notebook, already in his seat.

Other students started to filter in, and I felt like I looked a bit too jovial to be normal. Hey, it wasn’t my fault that my insides were glowing from pure happiness.

I knew my sexual identity. I knew that my feelings of friendship were replicated. And I knew the best person and friend on the Earth.

And from a split second of eye contact, I knew Jeremy was glowing, too.

_-_

I peered in my journal, before quickly tearing my eyes away as a wave of students came pouring into the classroom. Crap, I couldn’t get caught here.

But still, it was all worth it to hear what I just did.

The word “Kurt” had caught my attention, especially a Kurt said by Michael Mell. I pulled over and leaned outside of the doorway, hearing everything.

Michael was gay. Or bi. Or at least, attracted to men.

My shot was suddenly being fired at a larger target. So this little (not little at all) crush I had was more than a just a hopeful dream. Maybe I could-maybe-but no.

Urgh, JD, what did I say about dreaming again?

I hit myself with the journal before sprinting to my next class. This wasn’t a waste of a lunch period after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael got his hug :3
> 
> I'm not good at writing coming out scenes, but I think it's ok?
> 
> Thanks for your support guys! As always, feedback is appreciated, the Kudos are rad, bros, and consider dropping a memey, constructive, or any sort of comment, really. It motivates me to keep writing :>


	11. They've Already Started Shouting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for lack of updates! This isn't that long, but this is just until I can actually write a complete whole chapter (I've been busy I'm so sorry!)
> 
> Dance Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Michael's POV. Also more gay ships ahead!

The days leading up to the dance seemed very pale and uneventful. Martha and I hung out, I introduced her to Jeremy, Christine and co., etc. There wasn’t much to do as I had already picked my clothes out, however, maybe…  
Being the GENTLEMAN I am, I should get Martha a gift??

I honestly didn’t know what to get. I had been her friend for weeks, but she didn’t seem like a very wanting person. Heck, she was more of a giving person. It just didn’t occur to me ANYTHING she’d want.

Frick! Talking about how humble and generous person she was was NOT going to help me think of a present!

“She seems like she likes cutesy things, right?” Jeremy said out of the blue, seemingly reading my thoughts.

I nodded numbly. Now that I thought about it...she always had cute tattoos (removable of course) and all that jazz...maybe…

“I know,” I glanced at Jeremy gratefully. “Thanks bud,” I ruffled his hair. “That’s why I love you.”

Jeremy blushed. “In a totally heterosexual way.”

“No homo,” I grinned.

Next thing I knew, I was in formal attire, with a box in my hand in the middle of a school dance searching for my date.

I ran into Jake and Rich, totally grinding up against each other, and Brooke and Chloe sharing some rather sweet kisses.

I did choose the right school to be gay in.

Simply waving and shooting out curt phrases, I focused on finding Martha. Where was she??

“MICHAEL!” A strong pair of arms threw themselves around me, dragging my suprised body to the floor. 

“Martha!” I gasped, throwing the box into her face my accident, gracefully hitting it.

Nice way to start the night, douche.

Instead of furrowing her brow in discomfort, she picked up the slightly crushed box off the ground after helping me up. “Is this...for me…?” She gestured towards it quizzically.

“Uh...yeah...just a little something so I didn’t show up here empty-handed….” I fumbled with my words.

“My GOSH! Thank you so much!” She held both the box and my torso to her chest in a gigantic hug. Her bouncy pink dress floofed as she sprung up and down. “Can I open it??”

“Of course!” I approved gently.

She tore open the box to reveal a small potato chip plush with the words “friendchips” stitched on it (friend on the front, chips on the back), as well as a handmade card. Nervously, I held up a matching one I had in my pocket.

“This is SOOO adorable! Thank you Michael!”

“It’s really no problem…” I offered weakly as she subjected me to another tight hug. 

“I will treasure this forever!” she beamed gratefully. “I’m so sorry...I didn’t get you anything…” she somberly admitted.

“It’s really fine!” I claimed, not wanting to make her feel guilty. “You always give so much...this doesn’t even make up for most of the things you’ve done for me!”

“You’re the sweetest guy ever!” she chirped. “Come on! Let’s go dance!” She tucked her present in a bag and we headed to the dancefloor.

After all, this was a dance.

___---___

I had no idea what I was doing here.

I tugged at my blue tie nervously, the scrunched up azure seemingly not pulling hard enough at my neck.

Lights. Color. Urgh.

This brought back bad memories of the Halloween party. Except, this time Michael was having a great time. He had friends, a reputation, and a possible girlfriend. Never thought that I would be JEALOUS of MARTHA DUNSTOCK. What?

Sighing, I watched as Michael danced perfectly with the musical, his body melding with it in the intense melody and impacts. He jumped at the right time...it even seemed that he had choreographed something for this song! Probably not, but he just moved with it so naturally. It shouldn’t really have surprised me, I’ve seen him jam to Marley in the hallway all the time (I knew it was Marley because when I got close enough I heard it blasting from his headphones). But just...the way he spun around without a care in the world, added tiny little quirks to the moves with mini-hand motions, the way his hips swayed...argh that was a bit dirty. But this MAN...I couldn’t dance with him. I was skimpy, awkward, and the only thing I could dance to included head-bangs.

I couldn’t match his dancing...or personality...or good looks...or ANYTHING.

Jason Dean, in his secondhand clothes, shrunk to the back of the room. He shrunk beyond the back of the room. Amongst all the chatter and shouting and flashes, the thin shadow slipped away into the only haven of darkness.

The boy’s bathroom.

I had to admit I probably should have chosen a better place for hiding. The school boy’s bathroom reeked, has leaky sinks that occasionally one would find bugs in, and had thin walls that the music still boomed through. But, it was a bit better. The grimy floors provided some comfort that I wasn’t the only scum in this building.

Dry sobs started escaping me until I stopped them. There was no point in trying.

But then I started again.

And eventually, I just switched on and off, like the poor technology of the hand-dryers I shared the room with.

___----___

I usually get really lost in the music when dancing.

Aka why I take a break between songs.

Sometimes, I need to remind myself that yes, reality exists, and yes, I can’t own the dance floor, especially when some geeky slushlover is the one breaking out in overly expressive moves instead of some “hip breakdancer”.

So, I admitted to Martha that I had to cease my intense dancing for a reality check.

Just as the music stopped to switch tunes, amongst the blinding glows of the disco balls cast all across the room, I saw a shred of darkness. A mere foot that interrupted the passing of a bright lighted spot.

Curious, I followed the foot, noticing the small cutoffs of light. I still couldn’t see the figure that the foot probably attached to, but it seemed preoccupied.

Then, it disappeared.

I walked several yards in front of me to the spot where it had simply...died in the room. Then I lifted my head.

The boy’s bathroom, huh.

I could’ve sworn between the shrieks of music and stomping of feet I could hear a rickety cry. A fickle cry for...who knows what...switching on and off.

Hm.

___---___

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the cliffhanger?? The big moment is coming?? (Or something).
> 
> I really hope I get to write longer chapters! In the meantime, tell me your thoughts? Drop a comment and as always, thanks for reading this far! Thanks for the lovely Kudos as well!
> 
> Also, let me casually drop my Tumblr here where you can view more musical trash!: https://jad-kiwi.tumblr.com/


	12. What I Found Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dance pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooner than you thought, huh? Me too pfft. But it's not that long.

I didn’t know when it happened, but Michael, who had been performing carefree dances next to me, had disappeared.

A bit worried, I pushed my way out of the crowd (which practically parted for me, probably out of disgust) peeling my eyes to catch sight of that smile.

So immersed I was in finding him that I bumped face-first into who but-”I-I’m so sorry! I should watch where I’m going,” I apologized.

“Martha?” A rather rude tone cut into a familiar voice.

“V-veronica?!” I gasped. “I-I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you been?”

“Come on babe, let’s get away from this fragment of your past.” I suddenly heard another voice, this one not familiar. It was kind of nasally.

“Yeah, Jared.” That’s when I took in the full scene. Veronica, hips locked with a rather good-looking, tall, dark-haired man. Actually no. Lips locked as well. “But fancy seeing you here, Martha. Tell me, got a boyfriend on your fat ass yet?”

“Um, no…” I replied, slightly taken aback at her rude language towards me. “But I have a boy friend! As in a space between!” I cheerily offered.

“Oh, I should’ve known,” she smirked, making my stomach twist. “I’m sure of no one loves you now, no one will someday.”

“B-ut...that’s not true! You said-you said YOU loved me!” I gasped.

“Pfft! You think I’m GAY? No, disgusting. Get away,” she spat, linking arms with Jared.

“Babe, you’re doing great. I’m sure you’ll find the nerve to treat JD to that too,” he murmured.

“You’re right Jared, all my other friends before you and the Heathers really just GET it. They have too much hope.”

With that, they were whisked away into the strobe lights and music.

Did no one love me?

No.

Michael did.

____---____

My hand froze after initiating four solid raps to the door. I’m not sure why but I suddenly had a bubble of worry in my stomach, that bloated to complete anxiety. I had not felt social anxiety so I racked my brain for the reason. Why...why had I knocked on that door? I could only assume I was in a trance. No one knocks on a public door. You knock on individual stalls. Still, I was nervous to even enter the bathroom.

So I didn’t. And I just decided to stay out there like an idiot, dumbly waiting for something to happen as the lights and music blared in my ear, slightly dulled from my position in the room.

___---___

I heard those knocks. I heard those knocks and started hoping. AGAIN. It was really getting annoying on how much that emotion popped up.

I removed myself from a stall I was crying in, not very prepared for this. To help me feel a smidge better, I splashed some water in my face. Shaking from the cold reality it washed over me, I approached the door cautiously.

But no one spoke and no one knocked once again. I didn’t even hear shallow breaths.

Then the realization dawned upon me. Why would anyone knock on a public bathroom? That was stupid. What a stupid thing to assume. What a stupid thing to hope for.

It was probably my STUPID brain playing tricks on me again. And when there wasn’t another breath of noise, I knew that it had to be my delusional mind playing tricks again.

Slowly, that very delusional mind started to spiral down into even more thoughts. Well, even if I didn’t imagine that knock like the hope-filled maniac I am, it was probably some group of kids just knocking for fun or some crap. Probably they heard my sobs and wanted to play tricks on me.

That’s it. No more crying. I tried to suppress the tears that came from those very angry thoughts and instead silently made my way inside a stall. Hugging my knees to my chest, I lifted my legs off the ground to hide my feet from people who’d enter. With a final flick of the wrist, I locked the stall.

There. Now no one can come in. I wa sin my safe little bubble where I could hope if I wanted and nobody would have to see.

___---___

Petrified, I strained my ears to hear anything. I couldn’t.

That shadow was probably just a mind trick.

Probably just me hoping for something. I shrugged it off, still pondering on what it could’ve been when I felt two hands grab my shoulder. “Are you alright, Michael?”

I whipped my head around to face a very concerned Martha, face contorted into an ugly expression of pain I didn’t want to see on her face. Before I knew what I was doing, I placed a gentle hand on her cheek. “I’m fine,” I confirmed. “Just uh...I don’t know. Had to get away from the music for a bit.”

“I know, it’s a bit overwhelming, huh,” she smiled, wilting the previous expression to my delight. A smile curved into my face. “It seemed like you were enjoying it though,” she giggled. “I knew you like to jam to Marley in the hallways but I didn’t know you could go crazy like that.” I didn’t even notice my hand was still on her face until she touched it, her large hands surprisingly holding much grace. “It was fun to watch.”

“O-oh...thanks,” I blurted, flushing red. “You’re great too, you know.”

“I’m so glad you asked me,” she repeated shyly. This is when confusion struck me. She was usually so outgoing when speaking to me, why was she suddenly scared. “I’m having a good time.”

“I-I’m glad. Thanks for accepting,” I muttered in response. Was she ok? Her head was now facing completely downwards. This was not normal, it was so out of character! I tilted her head upwards to face mine with my hand still on her face. It brought it closer than I would have liked, but anything would do for me to see what was wrong. 

“H-hey...Michael…” she stuttered. “Well...I ran into Veronica and her boyfriend…”

“Veronica has a boyfriend?” Last time I checked, all she did was hang with the Heathers.

“Yeah, I was surprised too but, just...” She bit her lip.

“Hey,” I said as I set my eyes on hers. “Just know that I’m always here for you now.”

“That guy was just accepting all the stuff she said to me…”

“Martha.” I interrupted firmly. “Don’t worry about it. I’m here for you now. I’ll stick up for you. I’LL be the one to accept all the stuff you say, the one to come to problems with, that accepts all your feelings. I will be there! Forever..so uh…” I suddenly blushed out of embarrassment due to my ramblings. “D-don’t worry.”

“You mean it?” Her eyes widened in disbelief as if I hadn’t made this clear with all our interactions.

“Of course!” I confirmed.

And then I just felt her lips smash into mine and-

It just didn’t feel right. I appreciated that she trusted me this much, that she felt this close. Even still...I couldn’t reciprocate the kiss. My lips just didn’t want to. Confusion bubbled inside of me, as well as guilt. I couldn’t feel for my good friend?

“M-michael?” She broke the kiss, eyes just full of-I think love. At that moment, I was just so scared. I was frightened of how she was looking at me. It almost reminded me of Heather Duke’s hungry stare at 7/11.

I whipped my hand away from her face, but her face stayed up to look at me without my support this time. 

“I-I’m sorry! I don’t-I can’t-” I sputtered like an old hand dryer in the bathroom. That was it.

“I can’t-I’m gay!” I whispered ferociously to her, bolting into the boy’s bathroom, not even a yard away. I didn’t bother with knocking because who knocked on a public bathroom?

The door slammed behind me as I stepped into the bathroom in a frenzy of movements, my formal shoes unfortunately making more noise than I liked. They rapped on the floor themselves. It was still at least a break from the booming music outside.

__---__

Clang, clang, clang, clang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't be mad at me? :'>
> 
> As usual, comments are greatly appreciated, and thanks for all the comments and Kudos up till now! And, as always, thanks for reading this far!


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